Sunday, 2 December 2012

The road is cold, clear, knots of
Folk on side streets chat, wait
For the bus to a small room I will
Never enter, never see, though imagine
A few times in bewilderment at life
I will, I mean the life of them here
Who live surrounded by duress and
Therefore whose figures are more than
Right in front of my eyes, ordinary lives
So much so I simply can't see, I, a
Regular character in the papers, whose
Life has been neither difficult nor important.
And in my country is it different?
And would you feel that carapace too,
If you had this bitter pleasure
If you lived among but never with us? Simon Schuchat:The American Friend, from At Baoshan, in The East Village Poetry Web, Volume 1, 1998

Old home in Baiyang town, Baoshan, Shanghai: photo by Remko Tanis, 11 September 2012

Old home in Baiyang town, Baoshan, Shanghai: photo by Remko Tanis, 11 September 2012